


Hey Babe

by elliex



Series: S11 codas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x4, Baby, Charlie did not die in Dark Dynasty, Coda, Healing, Intimate moments, M/M, Recreational Use of Baby's backseat, Sam & Charlie being awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliex/pseuds/elliex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This works as a coda (of sorts) to 11x4. Dean and Sam return to the bunker, and Castiel provides some much-needed moral support. They also settle the whole "healing Dean" matter. It's fairly lighthearted, and I wrote it simply because I needed some lightness in my world today. If you read, I hope you enjoy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Babe

+

 

Dean checks the rear view – again.

 

“She’s fine,” Sam grouses.

 

Dean grunts. They hadn’t been able to get out of Oregon without being stopped – twice, actually. A local cop exerting his due diligence and a young trooper earning her stripes. Dean had handled both – his wide-eyed looks and slow smiles working like the charms they were. But with several states to go, he’d had to come up with a plan.

 

So here he is, driving a rented Ford truck with Baby riding on a trailer behind. That reminds him –

 

“We need some new cards. These,” he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a Visa and a Discover, “are toast.”

 

Sam plucks them from his fingers and breaks them in half. “Yeah, they’re done. I’ve got some new apps out already, and Charlie’s working her mojo too.”

 

“So we’re good?”

 

“Pretty sure.” Sam chuckles. “Charlie even thinks she’s figured out a way for us to make some honest money.”

 

“I’m _not_ stripping.”

 

Sam guffaws. “No one wants that, Dean.”

 

Dean side-eyes his brother. “Did I or did I not just get us out of multiple traffic citations _and_ get us a discount on this rental? I’ve got the goods.”

 

Dean can feel Sam’s eyes roll. He smirks. It’s a good day when he can rile Sam.

 

“Hey, is that --?” Sam leans forward, peering down the road.

 

Dean doesn’t need to squint. “Dammit, I told him to stay in.”

 

“So, he listens about as well as you?”

 

“You mean about as well as _you_.”

 

“Whatever, jerk.”

 

“Shut up, bitch.”

 

Dean ignores the warmth in his chest, the one that reminds him that home is right here, with his Baby, his brother, and his ---- He cuts the thought off and parks, taking care to avoid the drainage ditch. 

 

+

 

Castiel stands outside the bunker as the large black truck approaches. He pulls the gray blanket more tightly around his shoulders; it’s become something of a comfort these past few weeks, and while he doesn’t _need_ it… he does.

 

Sam waves, and Cas waves back. Dean stares straight at him, his mouth in a tight line.

 

Castiel sighs. Then he squares his shoulders. He will not deal with Dean’s attitude today.

 

Dean hops down from the truck first. “Thought I told you to stay in?”

 

“I’ve been in. I came out to see you.”

 

“I’m good,” Dean answers.

 

Castiel eyes him, cataloging every new bruise and cut, the limp Dean’s stifling, the stiffness of his arm.

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

“No, he’s not,” Sam agrees amiably. Cas turns his attention to his friend, noting Sam’s numerous injuries.

 

“Here, Sam, I can fix those,” he says, extending a hand towards Sam’s face. He’s startled when Sam takes a long step back.

 

“Nope. Not gonna happen – not till Dean’s healed.”

 

“Well, of course I’ll heal –”

 

“Of course _you_ will,” Sam explains, his tone patient. “But Mr. Martyr over there has it in his head that he’s still paying penance, so if he suffers, I suffer.”

 

Cas narrows his eyes. Sam’s voice is far too chipper – and then he realizes what Sam is doing. He shoots Sam a smile, and he delights in the crinkles that he feels forming at the corners of his eyes. Cas feels he’s earned those lines; they’re a mark of humanity.

 

Cas follows Sam’s line of sight as his friend glances at Dean, who’s now turned away from them and is staring morosely at Baby.

 

“He could use some cheering up,” Sam says, clapping Cas on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it.”

 

“But – what—”

 

Sam grins widely. “You’ll figure something out.” He tousles Cas’s hair. “There. That’s better.”

 

“Better than what?” Cas’s brow furrows, and he tilts his head. Sam’s grin widens.

 

“I’ll catch y’all later. Gotta call Charlie,” he says and disappears into the bunker.

 

+

 

Every fiber of Dean’s body knows that Castiel is standing right behind him.

 

“You can fix her.”

 

Dean thinks he can. He has before – so many times. But…

 

“What if I can’t?,” he asks, hating how small his voice sounds.

 

Castiel steps closer, hooking his chin over Dean’s shoulder and wrapping the blanket he wears like a shawl over him, too.

 

Dean laces his fingers through Castiel’s, holding the angel’s hands against his stomach.

 

“You can,” Castiel assures.

 

Dean closes his eyes and leans his head against Cas’s. The soft dark hair curls along his face, and he wants to turn and bury his nose in it, to breathe in the rich, heady scent that is uniquely Castiel. Heat sears through his body, and judging by the way Cas’s body tenses, he’s feeling it too.

 

Dean slips from Cas’s arms, keeping his hold on Cas’s right hand. “C’mon.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Not far.” Only a few steps, in fact.

 

“Is that safe?”

 

Dean looks down from the trailer and pops open Baby’s back seat. “Oh, yeah. She’s secure. I’m not taking any chances with my Baby.”

 

For a second, Dean thinks Castiel may walk away, but when Dean tugs at his hand, Castiel climbs up.

 

“Give me that,” Dean says, pulling at the blanket.

 

Castiel holds it more tightly. “No.”

 

“C’mon, Linus.” Dean chuckles when Cas’s brow furrows. “I’ll make it worth your while…” Dean smiles slowly, sliding his tongue along his teeth. When Cas’s eyes track the movement, Dean knows he’s won. “Now, gimme.”

 

This time, Castiel lets the blanket go. Dean spreads it along the back seat. He gallantly performs a half bow while keeping his balance on the trailer’s edge.

 

Castiel shrugs out of his coat first and takes off his tie, stuffing it into the coat’s pocket and tossing both into the front seat. He steps right into Dean’s personal space, his blue eyes fiery. His breath blows hot against Dean’s lips. “This better be good, Winchester.”

 

Just the sight of Castiel is enough to arouse Dean, but this…Dean swallows and reaches to adjust himself.

 

Cas bats his hands away. “No. That’s mine.”

 

Dean raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Oh yeah?”

 

“Yes,” Cas answers. “Mine.” An arm curls around Dean’s waist, a hand slides through his hair, pulling him closer. “Mine,” the angel repeats before claiming Dean’s mouth with his own.

 

Dean’s not smirking anymore.

 

+

 

Castiel guides them into the backseat, and he tenderly undresses Dean, kissing broken skin and laving attention upon bruises. Cas infuses a bit of grace with each brush of his lips, with each pass of his tongue.

 

He thinks he’s getting away with it until Dean’s hands curl tightly in his hair. “Stop that.”

 

Castiel freezes, looking up from where he’s been working his way down Dean’s stomach. Both men are naked, skin glistening with sweat despite the cool air.

 

He gestures towards the erection that’s straining towards his mouth. “Are you sure about that?”

 

Dean shakes his head. “You know what I’m talking about. You’re healing me.”

 

“I am.”

 

Castiel bends his head down and sucks along a boot-shaped pattern that decorates Dean’s ribs. Dean hisses in pain, so Castiel pulses a bit more grace into his movements. The fingers tighten. “Cas,” Dean growls.

 

Cas keeps going, ignoring the pull of his hair until he’s finished. When he raises his head, Dean’s now-unbroken skin shines with Cas’s saliva. “That’s better,” he says. He cocks an eyebrow at Dean, who looks ready to lose his temper. “You can’t tell me that didn’t hurt.”

 

“No, it definitely hurt,” Dean admits. “But…” He trailed off.

 

“But what?”

 

“I deserved it,” Dean says. His voice is quiet, broken.

 

Cas’s heart twists. “Dean,” he says. Dean won’t meet his eyes, so Castiel leans up, turning Dean to his side, and folding him in his arms. Dean tucks his head under Castiel’s chin, curls an arm around Cas’s waist.

 

Castiel pulls the upper half of the blanket down over them. It doesn't exactly cover, but it'll keep Dean from catching a chill. He presses a kiss to the side of Dean’s head. “You have to stop this,” he says.

 

Dean snuffles closer, tightening his arm. They lay in silence for a thousand and three heartbeats before Dean speaks, “What if I can’t?”

 

All too familiar with methods of self-recrimination, Castiel says, “Then you listen to me when I say you deserve to be saved. You listen to Sam when–”

 

“Don’t talk about my brother when we’re laying cheek to cheek, okay?”

 

Cas snorts. “Fine. You get my point”

 

Dean raises his head. “I do. I just –”

 

Castiel kisses him gently. He draws back, sees how Dean’s eyes linger on his lips and leans in again. Dean’s lips part, and Castiel welcomes it when Dean takes control, threading his fingers through Cas’s hair, holding him close, devouring.

 

Dean’s other hand slips between Castiel’s thighs; Cas responds as he knows Dean wants, hooking his leg over Dean’s hip. Snugged together, they thrust in unison; Cas mouths along Dean’s jaw; Dean gasps and holds tightly to Castiel’s hip.

 

Castiel knows he's close – knows Dean is too, can tell from Dean’s breathing, from the tightness of his muscles, from the way he cries out, “Cas.” He whispers, “Let me heal you.”

 

Dean leans his forehead against Castiel’s, though his eyes remain closed against Castiel’s searching gaze.

 

“Please,” Castiel begs, his voice a hoarse whisper.

 

Dean sags, and Cas knows he's won. “Okay,” he murmurs.

 

Castiel runs his hands down Dean’s back to cup his ass and holds firmly as he thrusts, a slide and drag that tears a ragged cry from Dean. The hair on Castiel’s arms stand on end. “C’mon Dean,” he murmurs.

 

Dean nods, and tucks his face against Castiel’s neck, looping his arms around the angel’s neck, as they move together – once, twice, thrice…   Castiel’s orgasm hits him, and he claims Dean’s mouth, pouring his grace into the hunter, even as Dean spills over them both.

 

+

 

Sam's finishing up his report on the ghoulpires when Charlie calls. “So, how’s the car repair going?,” she asks. “Funds holding out?”

 

“You’ll have to ask Dean,” Sam says. He takes a moment to stretch, realizing how lucky he is that Cas was able to heal him. No way would he have full movement of his shoulder back without the angel's help.

 

“Why can’t you just ask him? Oh, god. Did you two fight again? I swear, I’m going to sign you both up for therapy—”

 

“Charlie!,” Sam interjects. “Dean’s not here – he’s in Sioux Falls, at Bobby’s old shop.”

 

“That equipment still works?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, he and Cas took off a few days ago, so…"

 

“How did no one steal Bobby’s tools?”

 

Sam huffs a laugh. “Are you kidding? Bobby probably laid down enough spellwork to turn a thief into a toad. The house is toast, but the yard and shop's fairly intact. Enough for Dean to to fix his car, anyway.”

 

“Well, good,” Charlie says. “Sooooo,” her tone turns mischievous. “He took Cas? C’mon on, Samuel. What’s going on with those two?”

 

“What’s not, you mean.”

 

“There can’t _still_ be UST.”

 

“US-what?”

 

“Unresolved Sexual Tension. We’ve been over this, Sam. Learn to take notes or something, jeez.”

 

Sam laughs. “Pretty sure there’s still UST, but they’re resolving it every chance they get.” Sam shudders at the memory of what he’d overheard a few nights ago.

 

“Finally!,” Charlie says. “Took ‘em long enough. Are they happy?”

 

“Ridiculously. Stupidly, sappily happy,” Sam reports, smiling broadly. “Course, when one of them remembers that they've broken the world a time or ten, they regress a bit, but that’s to be expected. Don’t you think?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie says. “Man, I wonder if they’ll have little green-eyed or blue-eyed angels.”

 

“Charlie,” Sam warns. He clicks save and sends the file to the printer.

 

“I mean, really, can you imagine what their kids would look like?”

 

Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m not talking about mpreg with you again. I mean it. I had nightmares for a week. _A week_ , Charlie.” Sam pulls the printed documents from the tray and sets them aside to be proofed and filed before heading to the kitchen.

 

Charlie snorts. “You’re such a wimp, Sammy.”

 

He pulls a beer from the fridge. “It’s Sam, and yeah, you know what? When it comes to talking about stories where I push a – you know what? I’m not talking about it.” He pops the top off and plops down at the table, stretching his legs out and kicking back. “Did you hear about the Star Trek reboot?”

 

A high-pitched squeal fills the phone, and Sam holds it away a moment. “That good or that bad?”

 

Charlie launches into her arguments for and against, and Sam grins. For the millionth time he thanks God that Charlie’d managed to escape out the bathroom window before that Styne asshole could get to her. Dean had made short work of him, too, which had been way more gratifying than it probably should’ve been. _Huh. Maybe Charlie’s right and I do need therapy,_ Sam muses.

 

+

 

In Sioux Falls, Baby’s primer coat is drying. Dean and Cas are in the attached office, taking advantage of her recovery time.

 

Sticky and sweaty, Dean collapses into Castiel’s arms. He feels boneless and grateful for the angel’s sure grip.

 

Dean presses a kiss to Castiel’s chest. “Thanks, babe.”

 

Under Dean’s cheek, Castiel’s chest vibrates with repressed laughter. “The car’s going to get jealous, Dean.”

 

“Naw, Baby knows she’s my baby. But you’re my _babe_.” Dean grins and looks up, meeting very amused blue eyes. “Ain’t that right?”

 

Cas rolls his eyes, though his lips twitch. “I suppose.”

 

“You suppose?” Dean arches an eyebrow; oh, this is going to be good. “You _suppose_? You dick – I’ll show you just how right it is…”

 

“Considering how much you _like_ my dick, I don’t think it’s appropriate to say that so rudely,” Cas says primly.

 

Dean barks a laugh and rolls onto his back, laughing until his ribs hurt. “Yeah, I do,” he admits when he can breathe again. He grabs Cas’s hand and laces their fingers together. “What’s more, I like _you_ –“ He pauses. “Love you, I mean.”

 

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand and lifts it to his mouth. “I love you too.”

 

Dean smiles and rolls onto his side, the air mattress giving under his weight. Cas does the same, and they lay there, facing one another.

 

Cas traces Dean’s face with the fingertips of his free hand. Dean feels pulses of grace humming under his skin.

 

“Hey, you don’t have to do that.”

 

“I want to –“

 

“But… it’s one thing when I’m injured, but just for kicks?”

 

“Why does it bother you?” Cas runs his thumb along Dean’s cheekbone.

 

Dean sighs. “Because I can’t do anything for you.”

 

Cas stares. “Don’t you know?”

 

“Know what?”

 

“You’ve helped put me back together, just as much as I’ve helped you.”

 

“No way is that—”

 

Cas presses his thumb against Dean’s lips. “Yes, way. We help each other. It’s what we do.”

 

Dean smiles against the pad of Cas’s thumb. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Dean lays there smiling stupidly at Castiel for who knows how long until the angel’s brow furrows. “What is it?”

 

“Just… wouldn’t it be that I’m your _bae_?”

 

“Oh my god,” Dean groans. “If I _ever_ get my hands on Metatron…”

 

+


End file.
